Death by the Riverside by J. M. Redmann; Jean M. Redmann

Author:J. M. Redmann; Jean M. Redmann [Redmann, J. M. Redmann; Jean M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery, Gay
ISBN: 9781931513050
Publisher: Bella books
Published: 1990-09-30T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Saturday finally arrived, and I set out early for Torbin’s. I planned on taking around three hours to get there. If anyone was following me, I would know it. Maybe I was being paranoid, but then Barbara Selby was still lying in the hospital. Frankie wasn’t going to be spending any time with doctors if I could help it.

Torbin tried very hard to convince me to wear an outrageously revealing, red-sequined gown.

“But, Micky, darling, I so rarely get to play with the real thing,” he said, running his hands across my breasts in a manner that from any other man and not a few women would have earned a slap across the face.

I finally talked him into letting me use a long-sleeved black gown that revealed a good deal less cleavage, real or false. I still had a pretty nasty-looking scar on my arm that I didn’t want to display.

“Well, if you insist,” he said, viewing me. “Keep it if you want. That thing’s a rag that I haven’t worn in years. But, Micky, dear, do keep red in mind. It really is your color.”

“Thanks, Tor. Next family Christmas, you and I will go in red gowns.”

“Clashing reds. I’d love it.”

The tails weren’t too bad a fit on Frankie, but he still ended up looking like a scared penguin.

“I’ve gotten a limo for you kids. It’s my ball favor to you,” Torbin said, pun intended, I’m sure. “You’ve met Buddy, Frankie. He’ll be your driver and chaperone.”

“Wait a minute here, I told you not to let Frankie out of…” I started.

“He didn’t,” Frankie said.

“If a boy can’t get to the party, you’ve got to bring the party to the boy,” Torbin explained.

“Torbin’s been wonderful to me. I’ve met people I didn’t even know existed. People like me,” Frankie seconded him.

Buddy and the limo arrived. Torbin packed us in, telling us to have fun and not do anything that he wouldn’t do. That gave us a lot of leeway, more than I hoped we’d need.

I couldn’t help but think about the last time I had been down the road to One Hundred Oaks Plantation. This one’s for you, Barbara, I said to myself. At least I can tell your kids we got the men that left you in the swamp.

We were by no means the only limo that drove through the gates of the plantation. But I’ll say this for Torbin, ours was the only pink one.

I had to show my invitation to the parking lot attendant. Security was pretty tight, which was a good sign.

“Just go straight,” he said, giving us directions.

“Gaily forward,” I commented as we got out of earshot. The influence of that pink limo.

Frankie and I walked arm and arm down the long drive, doing our best straight imitation. He was steady, chatting amiably, but nervous underneath. You’re a better man than your dad ever was, Frankie. Someday you’ll realize that.

Another attendant checked our invitations at the door. A fair amount of money had been spent on decorations and food.

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